Bill the Pony: Dawn of Brilliance
by Fizz131
Summary: A pony named Donkey is escapes from his cruel master Bill Ferny and begins a journey with Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, and Strider. As the adventure unfolds, it becomes clear that the dawn of Bill the Pony's new life has begun.
1. Kindness

Bill the Pony - Dawn of Brilliance  
  
This is the first of a series I'm planning to write on the adventure of Bill the Pony. I wanted to write a story on a character that no one else would think of writing about, and I thought-that pony that Sam likes so much! I hope you like this.  
  
..:: Chapter 1-Kindness ::..  
  
The whip cracked sharply on the hide on Donkey's back, as his master pushed him to make him move faster. The sun was shining mercilessly upon the streets of Bree, and most of its inhabitants were inside their houses. Though he had lived in Bree for most of his life, Donkey had never known the jovial atmosphere that the town was famed for, since his whole residence there was as a beast of burden under the meanest man in town: Bill Ferny.  
  
The load on his back was becoming unbearably heavy, and his pace was becoming slower and slower. Having starved for longer than he could remember, he had no energy to spend anymore. With his head drooping low, and dripping with sweat, Donkey moaned a plea to his master, who sat on another pony counting money that he had ripped off from some poor Bree-folk that day. He snapped his head up and glared at Donkey, silencing him immediately. After another crack of the whip, Ferny drove onward toward the hovel he called home.  
  
On raising his head up for a gasp of breath, Donkey caught a glimpse of a tall Ranger roaming the streets, apparently headed for the Prancing Pony, the local inn where most visitors tended to go. Bree was the crossroads of wanderers, situated deep in the empty lands around it. Of course, there were the towns Combe, Staddle, and Archet, but all of these were small towns. Most people who passed by Bree were Rangers, rather tall men who roamed the lands and brought news and stories to Bree from their distant andventures.  
  
Rangers were usually tall, but this one was especially so. He traveled in clothes that looked weather-beaten, and had piercing eyes of mysterious gray. Donkey had seen him now and then, since he visited every few months. He didn't seem to have too many friends-in fact, he had none, to anyone's knowledge. He talked very seldom, and kept to himself most of his stories. Known for his height and long shanks, he was nicknamed "Strider."  
  
Bill Ferny, noticing him, called derisively, "Paying us a pleasant visit, Strider?"  
  
Strider but nodded, smiling faintly, and passed him by. Ferny seemed disgusted that he could never attain any satisfaction from Strider, since he never responded to his rude remarks. Donkey moaned again, now almost completely exhausted of strength. Strider turned around and stood with his arms crossed, looking steadily at Bill Ferny.  
  
"Ferny," he called, "I would say that you are pushing that pony a little hard." Donkey didn't realize that Strider was talking about him. He had been called "Donkey" for so long that he thought himself more of a donkey than a pony.  
  
Sneering, Ferny called, pulling back painfully on the rein in Donkey's mouth, "And I would humbly heed my good friend Strider's sound advice!" He whipped Donkey again and began to drive on.  
  
Strider caught up with him. "You will kill that creature. Why don't you sell him to me?"  
  
Ferny hissed and snapped, "If you're willing to pay 20 pennies!" 20 pennies was about 5 times the pony's value.  
  
"10. That is more than double his worth."  
  
"20. I'll not budge."  
  
"Then I'll at least feed him something." He reached into a pouch on his belt and tossed a piece of bread gently on the ground in front of Donkey, where he could without too much physical exertion stretch his neck and eat it. But Donkey, dumbfounded, did no such thing, and trembled, standing still.  
  
In the meanwhile, Ferny growled and shot out his hand to snatch away the piece of bread. But Strider was too fast. He reached out his hand and stayed Ferny. Donkey, his eyes glistening with tears, slowly reached down and put the bread in his mouth. Strider smiled brightly at Ferny, who was frothing with anger. He angrily threw Strider's grip off and whipped Donkey furiously, driving off at a rapid pace.  
  
Donkey trotted with renewed energy, chewing numbly at the piece of bread in his mouth. But now Ferny whipped him viciously, harder and more painfully than before.  
  
But that was fine. He had just learned a new concept: kindness. 


	2. Realization

Bill the Pony - Dawn of Brilliance  
  
..:: Chapter 2-Realization ::..  
  
The stable was smelly and miserable, but Donkey was accustomed to it. Piles of indisposed manure lay decomposing on the age-old layer of hay on the ground. There were other beasts of burden who were lounging in their places, but there were very few who looked as haggard and starved as Donkey did.  
  
Still chewing numbly on what was left of the piece of bread that Strider had given him, Donkey contemplated on that single shining event of his long life with Bill Ferny. He had forgotten the concept of kindness since his happier, younger days with his family. Something that he had thought had been erased from his heart was rekindled. The warmth spread throughout his mind and awakened a renewed determination to get something accomplished in his life.  
  
The only family member that he still knew was alive was his sister, who, he thought with relief, was owned by Barliman Butterbur, the innkeeper of the Prancing Pony inn, and would therefore never suffer as much as he did.  
  
"You're chewing something," said Gold, Bill Ferny's favorite horse, his voice icy and cold. Strangely, Donkey hadn't noticed when he came in. Gold usually came in with quite a flourish. At his voice, the other animals in the stable looked up, coming from their retreat into themselves out to the world. Gold didn't visit the dirty shed very often, having a clean, well- furnished hut of his own, so that his unexpected voice snatched the attention of everyone. Gold had a sort of prestige within Bill Ferny's animals.  
  
"I thought Master looked angry. How dare you take food?"  
  
There was an awkward silence as Donkey fearfully looked into the glaring eyes of Gold. Donkey was unable to say a word, conscious that the others watching him were writhing with jealousy.  
  
"He gave it to me," Donkey managed to say at last.  
  
Gold snorted in contempt. "You lie. You know that no one would care enough to feed a scrawny creature already at death's door. What's the use of feeding you?"  
  
You're wrong, Donkey thought in his mind. Some people do things without even thinking about the result. Some people do things just to do them. Some people are kind just to be kind.  
  
But all Donkey said was, "I don't know. He gave it to me. And that's all I know."  
  
Gold asked, "Who is this man?"  
  
"I don't know," Donkey said, lying. The name Strider was engraved in Donkey's mind. However, there were others who had watched the happening.  
  
"It was Strider," spat Parsimony, a jealous mule who was sulking in the corner. "Donkey knows it." The other animals began to murmur amongst themselves.  
  
Donkey realized bitterly that every animal in the barn was against him now.  
  
"Ah, of course it would be Strider," said Gold with cold irony. "Who else in his right mind would help you?"  
  
Donkey felt a vague sense of anger burning in his heart at Gold's insensitive cruelty to other creatures. Donkey had done nothing to him! What had he done to earn so much hate? There are people out there that aren't like Master, fool. There are people out there that are kinder. I know it. I remember.  
  
The talk was halted abruptly when Master Bill Ferny stormed into the shed with a malevolent smile painted on his face. His lips were drawn back so that his teeth glinted yellow in the lamp that he held raised in his hand.  
  
"What are you doing in here, Gold? You're going to get your hooves dirty. Out." Then he turned to Donkey, whose heightened sense of paranoia caused him to be especially alarmed at this unexpected action. "You. You're coming with me. Absolutely filthy, you are." Ferny sniggered to himself, and Donkey wondered what new scheme he was planning next.  
  
Donkey was still tired since just that afternoon, he had pulled Ferny's load practically on his own. Though Donkey was skinny, he was strong, and had iron sinews now deflated by malnutrition. Donkey tiredly staggered out the shed door as Ferny glared after him. Then the man broke into hideous laughter as he walked outside and slammed the door behind him.  
  
The night was cold and dark, so Donkey couldn't see beyond the circle of light that Ferny's lamp shed around them. He shivered a bit, and Ferny sneered down at him, then burst into cackles again. As Donkey waited uncomfortably, Ferny sobered and began to drive Donkey to town, walking coldly behind him.  
  
The walk was long, but not as tiring as the afternoon labor had been. On the roadside Donkey could see the little sloping hills of the hobbits as Ferny's lamp swung side to side, casting light about. The quiet stillness of the night was unbroken but for the steady clop-clop-clop of Donkey's hooves and a few whispered voices flowing from houses here and there. There were no travelers pacing the paths but them, and Donkey absently wondered why.  
  
At last, Donkey could hear merry laughter in the distance as he neared the Prancing Pony Inn. Bright yellow light streamed out of every window, and dancing figures jumped in and out of sight. Singing could be heard, too, and indistinguishable conversations mixed with each other in the overall music of the Prancing Pony.  
  
What business could Ferny have here? Donkey thought, as he paused in his steps for a moment, trying to anticipate any plots Ferny would have in mind. Ferny yanked on his reins, urging him on.  
  
Ferny took him to a stableman of Butterbur's, who took him straight away to the stable as Ferny deserted him to find Butterbur himself. The air of the night was bitingly cold, and Donkey shivered despite himself under his shallow hide, but the prospect of meeting his sister again was uplifting. If Donkey could not have happiness, at least he could stand by and watch his sister's happiness.  
  
All throughout his stay at Bree, the sole comfort of Donkey's life was the reminder that at least his sister was happy, and didn't know what he had come to know over the years.  
  
Donkey was led gently to the stable of the Prancing Pony. The stableman patted him twice on the back sympathetically, knowing the cruel, heartless way in which Ferny treated his animals. He had meant it as a friendly gesture, but with Donkey's hard labor earlier and the thin hide on his back, each pat left a pang of pain. After tying Donkey's reins up to a wooden beam standing upright in the center of the stable, the stableman left, wondering why Ferny brought such an animal to the inn. In the stable, there were a few animals comfortably lounging upon the thick piles of hay on the floor. It was well lit by a golden fire from a lamp on the ceiling, though some places were hidden by shadow.  
  
Donkey cleared his throat. "Vitality," he called weakly.  
  
There was rustling in one of the dark corners as Vitality awoke from a light sleep at the call of her name. "Vitality," Donkey called again. Vitality's eyes widened in delight as she recognized the voice. "Brother!" She staggered out of her niche excitedly out into the circle of light in the stable. Recently she had broken her right foreleg, and though it was not a heavy injury and would heal over the course of time, it severely impeded her ability to trot.  
  
Donkey had not seen Vitality's face in nearly seven years, and it was hard to recognize her after the growth spurt that she had obviously gone under while he was gone. But his face could not conceal the delight he felt when he looked proudly upon her youthful figure. Soon enough, however, he noticed the limp.  
  
"Vitality, what's wrong with your leg?"  
  
"Oh, I'm fine, Brother. On the other hand, you look like you haven't eaten in days." She wasn't too far from the truth. The piece of bread that Strider had tossed him was the only food he'd had in about three days. But he wasn't about to make this meeting about himself.  
  
"I missed you so much."  
  
"I'll bet I missed you more," said Vitality playfully. She untied his reins from the pole with her teeth. It was loosely tied. "Come with me to my spot." She led him to her comfortable pile of hay, and he slumped gratefully on top of it.  
  
"How are you, Vitality? Are you happy?" Donkey whispered. Of course he would ask about her happiness.  
  
"Happy?" asked Vitality. "With you starving like this?"  
  
"Don't worry about me. Enjoy your life. You're the only comfort I have."  
  
Vitality paused thoughtfully, looking down at the hay. "Run away," she finally said.  
  
Donkey looked questioningly at his sister. "It's not like I haven't thought of that. If I run away, where would I go? And how would I ever see you?"  
  
"Anywhere, Brother! Anywhere! There's a huge world out there, and you're stuck with Ferny, thinking only of MY happiness. There're more things to do with your life than worry about me, Brother." She paused. "It's not like you're old. You still have a whole life ahead of you. And you want to waste it here? In this sleepy town? What'll you die saying that you've done?"  
  
This certainly wasn't the dependent little pony that he took around with him as a rover in his teens. She was bombarding him penetratingly with hopes that he had buried deep in his heart. Donkey said at last, "I know what you mean."  
  
Vitality sighed. "Do you realize, Brother, that you have a choice?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Vitality repeated slowly, "You have a choice. You have a choice betweeen staying here or rotting away without ever truly 'living' and going off, taking risks, putting your life in danger, doing what you want to do." Vitality had actually meant to visit Donkey some how and talk to him about escaping, but it was on her way to Ferny's that she broke her leg. "Look at you. Do you remember when we were little? We had dreams. You had dreams. Now you might as well be dead." She was provoking him on purpose to snap him out of his careful affectionate unwillingness to conflict with her.  
  
But Donkey was thinking. Vitality was right. For years, his mind had been too occupied with surviving everyday to ever consider the option of escape. Now that he thought about it, it was the only way to exit out of this life as a beast of burden. He needed this. He needed his sister's motivation. He knew that, thanks to his sister, his mind had taken a different track.  
  
"Escape, then come back and rescue me."  
  
"Rescue you?" said Donkey in surprise. "But you have a good life here."  
  
"I'm not happy. This isn't what I want. You're stronger than me, Brother. My mind is not as firm as yours. You are the only one that can go and find a new life for both of us. I can't. It's.up to you." Vitality looked straight into Donkey's eyes. "Realize this. When you have hopes, when you have dreams, when you know that you're not living your life like you want to; you must do anything that you can to achieve what you want. Live, Brother. Be free. And then when you're free, you can come take me from this place. That's what freedom means. We can 'live.'"  
:: Chapter Three is coming up. Thanks so much for your interest! 


	3. The Black Rider

Bill the Pony - Dawn of Brilliance  
  
..:: Chapter 3-The Black Rider ::..  
  
As Donkey lay on the hay in his sister's niche in the stable, the stableman came in followed by Ferny, Butterbur, and a third person. This third person was evidently a Bree-bobbit, being brown-eyed and a little darker in skin color than the hobbits of the Shire. His eyes were bored and half-lidded under his pair of spectacles. He was expecting to buy a good pony that he had paid in advance for. He was only half-concerned, and wanted to get this transaction over with quickly.  
  
The stableman was slightly surprised that Donkey somehow loosened the rope that was tied to the pole in the middle of the stable and was now in another pony's nook. Donkey was led out into the light of the lamps, after which the stableman exited the building.  
  
"This is it," Ferny announced.  
  
The dark hobbit was dismayed. "What? I did not pay for this donkey!"  
  
"It's a pony. And you've already paid. Too late." Ferny sniggered. "Take it or leave it."  
  
Donkey stood unmoving as the dark hobbit squatted down and closely inspected his body. Matted gray hair thinly covered the fleshless skin that was hung loosely over Donkey's starved body. Presently he rose in disgust.  
  
"I will leave it. It is only a bother. You have starved it so much it will die anyway."  
  
Ferny grinned in delight. "Most regrettable," he said.  
  
As the dark hobbit ambled out of the stable, Butterbur stood in a rare, solemn silence, looking on Ferny in a quiet, analytical disposition that was all the more perturbing because of the innkeeper's usual jolly manner. As the innkeeper at the cross-junction of many paths, Butterbur had seen many kinds of people, but the narrow-minded cynicism of Ferny amazed him.  
  
Ferny, though unnerved by his gaze, made as if to leave with his pony. As he fumbled uneasily with Donkey's reins, the stableman returned, leading five ponies tied to each other by one long rope. They certainly looked well fed and furnished. Had the dark hobbit remained a while longer, the emaciated physical state of Donkey would have been even more strikingly clear.  
  
The momentary unease suffered at Butterbur's gaze having dissipated, the customary grin of wicked satisfaction returned to Ferny's face as he led Donkey through the door. Vitalia anxiously rose up, faltering a bit, from her niche and they exchanged a swift glance of farewell as he was pulled out of the stable. The night had deepened into pitch-black darkness that was broken only by the light from Ferny's dim lamp.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
We interrupt this story to talk about.  
  
*Donkey's Name*  
  
This is a brief interruption in the story to relate how come Vitalia calls Donkey "Brother," like he never had a real name before he got the name "Donkey."  
  
I mean, Vitalia has a name, and Donkey knows it. If she got it during the time before they arrived at Bree, then wouldn't Donkey have a name that she would know as well? Why doesn't Vitalia have a name to call Donkey other than "Brother"?  
  
Okay, let me reword those questions. Suppose that they had a better life together before they came to Bree and got separated. Vitalia had the same name. Donkey, on the other hand, got the new name "Donkey." Then it follows that Donkey had an old name that Vitalia must know. But she doesn't use that name. Why?  
  
When they arrived at Bree, Donkey was a young pony in his youth, while Vitalia was a mere baby. Being very young, Vitalia barely knew how to speak. (Provided this is 'animal-speak,' here.) Neither did she know the name of the brother, whom she valued above all other beings, though she did not know his name. They were separated, with Donkey longingly referring to her as Vitalia, and Vitalia growing up without any other name than "Brother." The next time they meet, Donkey has already adopted the new name "Donkey," which Vitalia refuses to use. Donkey has forgotten his old name, it being valueless to him. Vitalia simply calls him "Brother" from that point on. Simple, but makes sense. Back to the story.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
The dark hobbit's abject denunciation of Donkey's quality cut deep into the preexistent wound in his pride. And though he felt strangely relieved that he wouldn't be taken out of his familiar environment, he realized that he would probably have had a better chance of escaping if he had been purchased by the Bree-hobbit. Not for the first time ruing his bad fortune, Donkey staggered home, led by grinning Ferny, who was only happy in the Bree-hobbit's dissatisfaction in Donkey.  
  
As Donkey drearily tottered onward home on the dark path, Ferny's circle of light illuminated for a moment the passing shape of a man that he recognized as that of Strider. Strider seemed in quite a hurry to the Prancing Pony Inn. Ferny, if he noticed him, did not seem to care. But abruptly, Ferny's halted his walk as his countenance, lit by the yellow light of the lamp he held in his outstretched hand, was frozen in an expression of sudden remembrance. The face lost its expression and slowly gained a look of dread, as if cold water had been splashed over him.  
  
This wasn't the first time that Donkey had seen that expression. He had seen it before, though he had never found out exactly what it meant. Tonight, however, Donkey felt strangely bolder. Perhaps it was the talk he had with Vitalia just a moment before. Tonight would be the night that Donkey investigated into the mysterious dealings that Ferny had at night.  
  
Ferny nervously yanked on Donkey's rein upon their arrival at his Donkey's stable. When pushed inside, Donkey looked around at the silent stable creatures. They all seemed to be sleeping. Indeed, the night had grown quite late. However, Donkey was in no mood for sleep, though his eyelids felt heavy and his muscles ached. Standing still for a moment, he listened intently to the world outdoors. Crickets chirped here and there, but aside from such noises as were usual to nature, the night was quiet.  
  
The heavy, though muffled, thuds of massive hooves landing on the dirt road grew audible from a distance. Ferny, who stood at no great distance from the stable, gave a low, barely stifled gasp. At a rate that was to Ferny unbearably slow, the thuds grew louder, as the unknowable beast with hooves grew nearer. The clop-clop of the hooves approached at a nearer distance now, until Donkey could see the outlines of a black, hooded figure mounted upon a horse with hair and manes as dark as the night, faintly lit by Ferny's lamp.  
  
The Black Rider stopped his horse. For a dreadfully lengthened duration, silence prevailed once the thuds had stopped. The Rider leaned his head closer to Ferny.  
  
"The light," hissed the Rider as his emaciated hand shot out to grab for Ferny's lamp. It was difficult to see in the dark even with the harsh glare of the lamp, but the hand may well have been composed only of bones. "Extinguish it."  
  
Hurriedly, as if afraid of the consequences of forgetting such a thing, Ferny blew out the candle inside. Then he stood rigidly, in the complete dark that ensued, awaiting words from the Rider.  
  
"News?" the Rider asked softly, after a pause.  
  
Ferny swallowed once before he proceeded to relate in a hushed hiss: "There is news indeed, lord. The hobbits you were waiting for. I believe they are here. Exactly four hobbits arrived tonight at the inn."  
  
"Baggins."  
  
"That's what I assumed, lord. And the one that calls himself Underhill. There was quite a queer happening tonight at the inn. This Underhill was dancing one moment, when, poof, he just disappeared. Some idiots think it was just some clever trick-"  
  
"The Ring. It is here."  
  
"Yes, the Ring," hissed Ferny, nodding. Donkey squinted in puzzlement. What could THIS mean? Ferny had gotten himself entangled in matters that sounded more serious than Donkey had imagined. What ring could they be talking of? And what was this about a disappearing hobbit? Were the two matters related?  
  
Ferny asked cautiously, "What do you mean to do, lord?"  
  
The Rider did not answer.  
  
"I suppose, tonight," Ferny predicted, "there'll be a few deaths. Four?"  
  
The Rider still did not answer, and suddenly, in all swiftness and stealth, his black horse bolted down the road in the direction of the inn. Ferny sniggered, knowing with quite reasonable sureness that he had guessed correctly. He felt a bit easier now that, with the Rider gone, the cold sensation was gone. He laughed as he went inside his house. He opened his door and entered, closing the door behind him.  
  
Immediately, Donkey pushed through the stable door and ran onto the road. This created such a great deal of noise that he, afraid that Ferny might have heard, paused and listened for a moment. Feeling safe, however, he continued up the dark road, forced to go on at a much slower pace than before.  
  
Murders! Donkey hadn't seen murders in years, since he was arrived starving in Bree many years ago. Whatever that the Rider planned, he had to do something about it. Donkey didn't know what a pony could do to stop the murder of hobbits by such a menacing Rider, but he couldn't stand by and watch.  
  
However, his walk had to come to an abrupt stop, for the same cold sensation that he felt in the presence of the Black Rider was felt again, this time, with double the mind-numbing power. It felt like the air was laden with the cold, black essence of fear. Afraid for his life, Donkey jumped off the road into a ditch that ran adjacent to the road, attempting to hide in the brush inside. He peered above onto the road. The sensation strengthened in magnitude, and Donkey felt himself tremble in fear.  
  
Three black shapes passed by without a sound, the cloaks of the riders trailing behind. After the first and second riders had passed, the third rider sped by after an interval a moment longer than between the first two. Donkey stopped breathing. Soundless and imperceptible in the night, the riders galloped past without noticing Donkey. The sensation of cold fear lessened as they became further away.  
  
Donkey, shaking, but able to stand, decided that they were probably too intent upon their pursuit to notice slight noise. He galloped as fast as he could along the road in the ditch, jumping over the small bushes that occasionally blocked his way. The inn was a long way off.  
  
:: Chapter Four coming up. Thanks so much for your interest! 


End file.
